Glenn's Little Old Barn
Glenn McLean's little old barn has withstood wind storms hard enough to blow off Superman's cape, torrential rains, not quite enough of a deluge to start considering building an ark, summer heat, hot enough to fry a hungryman's breakfast on the metal roof and snow so deep, a ladder wasn't needed to reach the top of the roof. However, over the past 50 years, like anything else in this world, it's grown old and weary and as it leans into the wind at a somewhat precarious angle, like an ancient soldier unable to stand at attention any longer, Glenn graciously gave it to me when he heard I was looking for materials to build a new barn at Golden Unicorn Farm.
Glenn's barn has been a home and shelter for many animals over the years. It's housed pink, curly-tailed pigs, udder-bulging cows and kinky, wooly-sheep that gives a whole new meaning to a Jamaican's dread-locks. And then of course, there's the uninvited critters that move in to share the warmth, dryness, protection and the food within the barn - like cats, rats, mice, squirrels and birds, to name a few. Three cats still used the barn for their home and once the door was opened, Glenn's chickens decided to move in as well, clucking their approval at the abundance of loose hay and straw available to make soft, comfortable nests to lay their eggs. I guess the rooster took a dislike to me when I entered the barn, causing his harem of chicks to scatter out of my way because when I went back outside, he attacked the back of my left leg. As I stood hovering like a giant over the pesky little rooster, he ruffled up his feathers and tried to dig his spurs into my leg once again. At first, I thought the little pesky-critter was comical but when he continued to strike me as I walked away, I finally had to turn around and give him a wee boot. I didn't hurt the little guy, except maybe his pride - obviously he was never told that in pretty much any confrontation, whether it's right or wrong, "might is right".
On Monday morning, April 18th, with help from a neighbour, Garry Clark, who lives at the top of Green Mountain, we began dismantling Glenn's old dilapidated barn, sheets of steel corrugated-metal, decomposing duroids, rough-hewn boards, oily tar paper and rusty nails - enough to fill the muzzle of a large cannon and drop every sword-weilding, lance-toting cavalryman and horse in the Charge of the Light Brigade with a single blast. Using crow-bars, hammers and a nail-puller, we could feel the old barn shudder, sway and tremble like an old man trying to kick up his heels at a rock concert as we worked our way down from the top of the roof. On the third morning, with only the sides, rafters and small inside stalls remaining intact, winter once again came storming through the forests and across the open fields turning everything white and icy.
Garry Clark Dismantling Glen's Barn
The storm had been predicted - 17 centimeters of snow expected. When the first flakes of the storm began flurrying about the old barn and us, Garry and I retreated to his black half-ton truck (vinyl flame-job adorning its sides and "Fireball" lettered on the hood) for a bite of lunch and a hot cup of tea. We were hoping the snow would let up but as the landscape began turning white with each gust of icy wind, decided it was best we call it a day. Fortunately, only a few centimeters of snow fell before it turned to icy-rain and the weatherman predicts Friday, April 21, to be sunny and warm, hopefully enough time to melt whatever has gathered upon and inside Glenn's old barn; time for Garry and I to resume the final dismantling and cart away a trailer full of good lumber and other little goodies Glenn said I could have.
On returning home, I discovered about a dozen small cedar logs lying in the yard. Apparently, a friend of mine who lives at the edge of North Lake, Gary Stairs had dropped them off. When he returned a little later in the day and we were enjoying a cold beer in the warmth of my studio, he told me he was going to supply me with enough cedar posts to fence off a large area around the new barn and garden. Like Glenn McLean; what a great guy. Also, when I mentioned Sarah thought we should have an old time barn raising like the Amish he said, "You can count me in."
Hopefully, weather permitting, Glenn's little old barn will be completely razed and anything that is useable will be lying in the yard at Golden Unicorn Farm by the end of the weekend waiting to be built into a brand new barn. A barn raising like the days of old should be a fun time for all to get together - work hard for awhile - then sit back, have a few cold beers and fill our bellies with good nutritious food.
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